THE MAGIC BULLET
There's this infomercial on TV with this english guy and slut who advertise the Magic Bullet. It should be about a vibrator. But it isn't. This upsets me. Instead it's this mini-food processor. The fake couple (english and slut) have all their fake friends gathered in their kitchen, presumeably after their long time of ogrying, and they are all so fucking amazed that the magic bullet does everything. But you know what? It doesn't fucking get my girl off. And when I say "my girl," I'm talking about no one because that is laughable (kyle and girl in same sentence--we all know he's gay). I was merely making a point. Although I suppose that if you turn on the bullet it probably has some kind of vibration that when pressed against the clitoris may provide enough stimulation for orgasm. I suppose it depends on the bitch.
Now, as I've typed this, I've gotten an idea. The new-new missing score song will be called "The Magic Bullet" and here are the lyrics I had already written for it:
The Magic Bullet
Just thirty bucks a cluster fuck
In hindsight isn’t all that much,
I’m burnt by a red-handed thief.
Never thought it would be that cheap.
Fell in for a free ride, I’m numb
and my legs fell asleep, got stuck
While living under the American dream,
you fucked the stutter out of me.
Don’t sweat the excess.
We can run with half that.
Don’t sweat the excess.
We’ll work for half that.
If the devil made you do it, don’t complain
if you rule the world and have free reign.
If you’re ten feet tall, thirsty as hell,
but you find there’s no ice left to melt
on the nipples of Satan, we’ll ride
in the seats of a Hummer, reclined
underneath the American dream,
into the forest where the witches flee.
Decades ago bullet trains were the future,
but the interstates still run the show.
Don’t sweat the excesses,
the reflex of underpasses,
swept past the fast reactions,
swept under hidden captions
of rental cars to SUVs
that rule the roads, a new disease
that’s rationed out the debtors schemes
of fucking an American dream.
Now, as I've typed this, I've gotten an idea. The new-new missing score song will be called "The Magic Bullet" and here are the lyrics I had already written for it:
The Magic Bullet
Just thirty bucks a cluster fuck
In hindsight isn’t all that much,
I’m burnt by a red-handed thief.
Never thought it would be that cheap.
Fell in for a free ride, I’m numb
and my legs fell asleep, got stuck
While living under the American dream,
you fucked the stutter out of me.
Don’t sweat the excess.
We can run with half that.
Don’t sweat the excess.
We’ll work for half that.
If the devil made you do it, don’t complain
if you rule the world and have free reign.
If you’re ten feet tall, thirsty as hell,
but you find there’s no ice left to melt
on the nipples of Satan, we’ll ride
in the seats of a Hummer, reclined
underneath the American dream,
into the forest where the witches flee.
Decades ago bullet trains were the future,
but the interstates still run the show.
Don’t sweat the excesses,
the reflex of underpasses,
swept past the fast reactions,
swept under hidden captions
of rental cars to SUVs
that rule the roads, a new disease
that’s rationed out the debtors schemes
of fucking an American dream.